It's All In Your Head
by SirPapillon
Summary: Let's Play Guess The CrossOver! The team is called to a mysterious triple homicide in an unknown location. They quickly find out that there's more than meets the eye at the experimental military facility, but will it be too late for our team? Sum inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey All!**

**Ok, so I thought a little game of 'Guess That Crossover' would be a fun thing to write. As is stated in subjects, it is supernatural, so there's your first hint :). **

**I intended this to be a oneshot, but I guess, as is typical with me, I have trouble simply writing oneshots. Gotta elaborate; it's my nature. By the way, if you've read my stories 'window seat' and 'I am not Don Juan Triumphant', keep a look out for updates. Feel like those would be fun (as requested) to elaborate on.**

**I rated this one Teen, but it may in later chapters get a bit... violent. If it does, then I'll change it to 'M', but for now, it's not too bad.**

**This will be Timcentric, but the rest of the team will be in focus as well. I hope you enjoy! And review and let me know what you think the crossover is!**

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><p>"So, what do you think Ninja Woman? Stapler? Paperweight? Gibbs' coffee cup? Hell, anything will fit in there. Look at Probie!"<p>

Tony was perched on the side of his desk like a wild cat ready to pounce as he stared intently at McGee. The green eyed agent was almost recumbent in his desk chair, head thrown back, mouth wide open as he snored noisily. Ziva simply shook her head.

"Man, he makes your snoring sound like a lullaby. You think if I held a wine glass next to him it would break?" Tony moved from his position on his desk to McGee's, staring into the enormous open cavity of McGee's mouth.

"Tony, leave McGee alone. He's obviously overworked. He never sleeps on the job. Well, rarely." Ziva defended the younger agent.

"But Ziva! This is a prime probie hazing opportunity! We can't pass this up! I'm going to stick pens in his nose." DiNozzo grabbed a handful of pens from the mug on McGee's desk, and was slowly moving at least seven towards Tim's nose. Ziva shook her head, but watched in amused silence.

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><p><strong>Meanwhile, in McGee's subconscious…<strong>

Strange dreams were not foreign to McGee, what with the gruesome crime scenes he frequented, as well as his overactive imagination and writer's mind. But this was something he'd never quite experienced before.

He walked slowly through a city, that was the epitome of an apocalyptic scene. Flames belched from nearly every window of the high rise buildings that loomed above him, dark ash blackening the deep crimson sky. Some buildings had even collapsed, crushing cars, trees, and light poles in their descent. McGee could feel tremors beneath his feet as he walked, not sure whether they were earthquakes or buildings falling some distance away. Cars were overturned and scorched, and rarely in one piece.

The ground was a thick with ash, mud, and some unidentifiable odorous substance. He looked at it intently, but kept himself from reaching down to touch it. Whatever city this was, it had met its end.

McGee wound his way around flaming cars, overturned busses, and pieces of the road that had cracked and split, jutting up around him. Through the cracks in the concrete, McGee could see a golden, almost amber glow resonating from below. _What happened here? I've seen this before…_

Then something caught the agent's eye. Around the front half of a fire engine (the other half was missing) McGee saw someone watching him. As soon as he focused on the apparition, it disappeared around the truck and out of view. McGee began jogging after it, as if it held the key to understanding why the city was the way it was. As he turned the corner, he was overcome with a splitting headache. McGee fell to his knees as a piercing sound resonated between his ears.

"Aaaah!" McGee cried, the sound threatening to split his head in half. He could feel the frontal, parietal, occipital, and temporal bones of his skull begin to pull apart, and he could hear the cracking. Desperately he clutched his head, trying to hold his skull together as he fell onto his side in the fetal position. As the pain increased, he felt a presence beside him, and he knew who or whatever it was must be responsible for doing this to him. Shaking, he slowly turned his head to identify what was beside him. But all he saw was red and two glowing eyes staring at him. Then he heard it.

"Do you see?"

Then, the pain jumped to unbearable levels, and in his dream, Timothy McGee's body exploded.

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><p>"YEEEAAAAH!" McGee screamed as he erupted from slumber, arms flailing, lurching out of his chair. He crashed headlong into Tony and knocked him over his desk and onto the floor, pens, and eraser, and stapler sent flying through the bullpen. McGee landed on top of Tony, who stared at the no longer sleeping agent in shock.<p>

"Mc- Probie! What the hell was that?" Tony shot, attempting to push McGee off him. Tim, raised himself, ears and cheeks burning from embarrassment as the rest of NCIS looked at him and Tony.

"Find out later, and stop playing grab ass in my bullpen. Gear up! Got some dead SEAL's!" Gibbs snapped as he strode swiftly into the bullpen. Tony and Tim hurriedly righted themselves.

"Yes Boss."

"Sorry Boss."

The team was well accustomed to Gibbs' many moods. There was Brooding Gibbs, Angry Gibbs, Brooding Gibbs, Pissed-Off Gibbs, Brooding Gibbs, Anxious Gibbs, Brooding Gibbs, and the ever elusive Caring Gibbs. Oh, and there was silent, glaring, grim Brooding Gibbs.

Tony shot McGee a glare and the younger agent nodded, sensing something in Gibbs' voice. This was a different Gibbs. It was a Gibbs that they experienced even less than Caring Gibbs. This was Confused Gibbs. Gibbs was never confused, and hated when he was.

McGee shrugged at Tony, who hung up the phone and began picking up his backpack. _Dead SEAL's? _Of course, any individual from the armed forces could be murdered, but there was something different about when a Navy SEAL was possibly murdered. SEAL's were among the most capable human beings on the planet of defending themselves. And not only that, but Gibbs had said 'SEAL's'. Apostrophe S. More than one. Plural SEALs. Today was not going to be a good day.

"Grab your overnight gear too. This is going to be a long one. I'll tell Ducky." Gibbs snapped as he walked briskly out of the bullpen. Ziva, Tony, and McGee looked at each other confused, but silently concluded, as they had learned to do, that following their boss would yield the answers to most of their questions. The team silently got up, and hurried to the elevator.

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><p>The MCRT walked out of Hangar 7 onto the tarmac of Bolling Air Force Base. The sun reflected glaringly off the runway as the team, equipment and overnight bags in hand, walked silently along. Gibbs' gut was churning.<p>

They, as a team, had obviously flown to specific locations of crime scenes. They had obviously investigated the deaths of special operations soldiers. And they absolutely had been involved in investigations that centered around classified and restricted information and locations. But this, just didn't seem right.

In front of them was a C-130 airship, standard transportation for military operations. But surrounding the giant plane, with it's four enormous propellors slowly turning, were countless soldiers. There were at least two platoons of marines standing guard, their fingers close to the triggers. Humvees drove around the airfield in the distance, and Gibbs could make out that the turret gunners were perched behind the .50 caliber mounted guns as if awaiting to be attacked. On American soil. Odd, to say the least.

Lining the path from Hangar 7 to the C-130, were more humvees, all with soldiers behind the mounted guns. They swept the weapons to and fro, as if expecting unknown assailants to appear from around the hangar walls. Gibbs turned, looking up, and saw multiple sniper crews perched on rooftops of the hangars, as well as on any building with a level rooftop. Odd. Very, very odd. The unease did not go unnoticed by the three younger agents. Tony was currently establishing a plot, music score, and characters for the movie in his mind, Ziva was on high alert (and, as Tony would say, Mossad-Mode), and McGee nervously looked about. Ducky even, chatted a little slower and quieter than usual. Yes, something was very amiss.

As the group began to climb up the cargo gate of the plane, an airman in a flight jump suit and a bulky helmet with a dark visor met them.

"You must be NCIS. My name is Dawkins, I'll be attending to you in the hold. Here are the dossiers of the situation. I must remind you that this is a very, VERY classified location, situation, and environment. Or so they've told me."

Gibbs nodded as he took the dossier from Dawkins.

"You got any idea where we're going?" Gibbs asked gruffly, as he and the team followed Dawkins into the hull.

"Some place called Fairport. New York, I'm assuming. But, ummm, we're not supposed to discuss locations. Classified." Dawkins replied.

"You mean to tell me, myself and my team are not allowed to know where we're going?" Gibbs questioned scathingly, the churning in his gut almost burning.

"Look Special Agent…"

"Gibbs." The older agent introduced himself as he and the MCRT took seats against the wall of the C-130's fuselage, strapping themselves into the uncomfortable metallic seats.

"Special Agent Gibbs. I don't even know exactly. To tell you the truth, I've never experienced this much… security. It's all hush hush, you know? I don't even know the half of it. My orders are to give you the dossier, and essentially keep you from asking too many questions." Dawkins laughed after he finished the sentence, realizing that, from the look Gibbs was giving him, that questions would be asked. He continued.

"Ok, look. I'll tell you what I know, and it won't be a security breach, because I don't know much. It's just that-."

Dawkins was cut off by the rumbling of the engines as the plane lurched to life.

"Alright, here we go. This guy looks like he's gonna puke already. Look bud, I'm not cleaning your vomit off the floor. We're not even in the air yet!" Dawkins laughed, pointing to McGee.

McGee was holding the shoulder straps of the seat restraints tightly, his knuckles showing white as he stared at the ceiling and took deep breaths. Ziva patted his knee.

"Calm down McGee. You know, planes are safer than cars, no?"

"Yeah Ziva, but at least I can control a car. And if a car stops working, it just rolls to a stop. If a plane stops working, it falls out of the sky, and everyone dies." McGee closed his eyes tightly, sweat beading on his brow.

"Dawkins is right Probie, you look green already. I'll get you a bag McVomit." Tony laughed at the very uncomfortable McGee.

The lights of the cargo hold dimmed to a deep red, and the agents felt the engines increase power, escalating the plane's velocity in mere seconds. They bounced around in their seats, and Tony threw his hands up above his head in the classic 'roller coaster' pose as he shot McGee a teasing look.

Dawkins, who was seated next to Gibbs, tapped the older agent on the shoulder.

"He squeamish?" Dawkins asked, gesturing to McGee. Gibbs nodded.

"Well, then he's gonna hate this case." Dawkins said with a sigh, as he shook his head.

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><p><strong>Another chapter coming soon! Let me know if you think you know what the crossover is!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 of my "Guess The Crossover". A few of the guesses so far are kinda close, but none are spot on... yet. Glad you're interested though! **

**And as made aware by Camry72:**

**My apologies for not being completely true to McGee's character. I was made aware that Tim doesn't snore, and he's afraid of ships, not flying. I apologize if this threw anyone off, but figured him snoring and being afraid of flying just kinda fit in with the story. Again, sorry if it irked any of you. **

**Well, on with the story!**

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><p>"In here, Sergeant."<p>

Two soldiers dressed in all black tactical fatigues and gas masks ushered a third soldier into a brightly lit holding cell in the high rise facility in the city of Fairport. The Sergeant was dressed in olive drab tactical gear, a short sleeve shirt that showed off his arms, and kneepads and elbowpads. The guards allowed the Sergeant to enter, then shut the door behind him, locking it.

The room looked much like any typical interrogation cell, complete with a table and two aluminum chairs on either side of it. On one wall was a one-way mirror for the recording team. The Sergeant looked around him, studying the symbol on the wall over the table. It was three squares that formed a baseless pyramid. He sighed, then made his way over to the mirror. He tapped lightly with fingerless gloves on the glass, then smiled, knowing full well that there were men in white coats behind it, monitoring his behavior.

Finally, he took a seat, tilting the back of the chair against the wall so he could recline slightly, and waited. He knew what was going on. _They're gonna pin the murders of those SEALs on me. I know it. I wonder when the Lieutenant is gonna get me out of here? Or Griffin, maybe. Ah well, gotta wait this out, I guess._

He swung his combat boots onto the table and interwove his fingers behind his head, closing his eyes. Just as he did so, the lights flickered. He looked around the room, then focused on the mirror. Through the flickering, he could see the cameras and audio recording devices, as well as the men in white coats behind the mirror. _This is going to be a looooong day._

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><p>After an hour or so at cruising altitude, Dawkins, who had been walking around in the hold, inspecting the different pieces of equipment on the plane, noticed the entire MCRT seemed to be asleep, save for Gibbs. <em>Perfect.<em>

Dawkins gestured for Gibbs to come over to him. The older man watched the airman suspiciously, then unstrapped himself and walked over as his agents' heads lolled about in their slumber. Gibbs reached Dawkins, who led the agent into a small, unoccupied room on the side of the cargo hold. As Gibbs entered, he saw numerous weapons lining the walls. It was the C-130's armory. Dawkins waited for Gibbs to enter, and shut the door behind him. Dawkins removed his flight helmet, shutting off the intercom, and placed it on the barrel of one of the rifles on the wall.

The room was about the size of a bedroom, and the walls were lined with automatic rifles, submachine guns, pistols, and explosive devices. It too, had the same dark red glow as the rest of the hull.

"Ok Gibbs, here's what I know. Now before I start talking, this conversation never happened, clear?" Gibbs nodded.

"I need confirmation that this conversation never happened. Not just a nod." Dawkins looked intently at the older man.

"This conversation never happened." Gibbs gave in.

"Ok, good. Thanks. Alright so I been listening to the chatter. You know, you get bored in the back of this old plane all the time. Gotta occupy yourself with something right? Anyway, so there's been a lot of talk recently about a military base being built in Fairport."

"New York?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm really not sure. Maybe. That's the only Fairport I know of. Still, I don't know if it's even in the country. But it's supposed to be base for an experimental military project. I got a friend who's high up, and he says the feds are pumping tons of money into this thing, as well as a few private companies. Not sure when it's supposed to be built-." Gibbs cut him off.

"You got a point to all this, Dawkins?" The airman ran a gloved hand through his hair.

"Yeah, it's just… weird you know? Like, a bad feeling, but you can't say that it's bad. It's just like… a feeling, you know? Something about it all just seems-."

"Hinky."

"Whatever the hell that means, but yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, my question is, if we're gonna build a base there, why are there Navy SEALs in the area? What are they doing there? The base isn't functional, or even in the process of construction, so they couldn't be doing drills. And if it's for security reasons, why would they send SEALs? I mean, why not send a few platoons of marines to secure a perimeter?"

Gibbs frowned as he scratched his cheek. Now that he thought about it, with this new information, it did seem weird. Dawkins continued.

"And I did some research on the private companies partnering with the gov. I mean, these civilians are loaded. Billions of dollars in these companies. But here's where it gets interesting."

Dawkins leaned against one of the racks of rifles, his eyes glued to Gibbs'.

"One of the companies is a company that specializes in psychological research."

"Maybe PTSD and psych trauma from war experiences." Gibbs mused.

"Maybe, that's my best guess. But why build an entire base for that? And the amount of money going into the project far outweighs simple psych recovery and research, you know? I'm no expert, but I doubt you need a billion dollar facility to research PTSD."

Gibbs nodded, a feeling of unease and foreboding replacing simple suspicion in his gut. _Something's wrong._

"I don't get it, Special Agent Gibbs. But the really freaky thing about it, is the company that is all into psych research, I found a ton of articles online about it. Unfortunately, most of the information was on forums and blogs that I couldn't cite as credible sources, but all of them were talking creepy conspiracy theory shit. You know, like manipulating your mind illegal mental experiments. Shit like that. Just creeps me out. But then again, anyone will post anything about everything on the internet if it gets them attention."

"You got a name for the company?" Gibbs asked, leaning against the rifle rack. Dawkins shook his head.

"Yeah, about 30. Company went under a bunch of names, but the guys online called it 'Mind Machine', but I'm assuming that's not what it's really called. That part is weird too. Why is the construction of an entire military base hush hush? But, then that's another thing. I heard it wasn't even going to be a base, just a facility. High rise building or something. Still doesn't explain any of it. And now, we got three dead SEALs."

Dawkins sighed, then stood, grabbing his helmet from the rifle. As he fitted it on, Gibbs looked through the dossier. Almost every line was inked out with long black rectangles. The dossier was essentially worthless, with all the valuable information being blacked out. Gibbs shook his head, then slapped the folder against his thigh as he turned.

He and Dawkins were making their way back into the cargo hold, towards the sleeping agents, when, like an elevator whose chords had snapped, the C-130 lurched, sending the two into the air suddenly. All the lights in the cargo hold went out as Gibbs and Dawkins hit the steel floor with a clang.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell?" Dawkins called as he searched in the dark. The hold was pitch black as Gibbs stumbled through the violently shaking plane to his seat. With hands in front of his face, he smacked Tony in the face accidently, then found his seat, whirled around, and strapped himself in. And as soon as it started, the lights in the cargo hold came back on, revealing Dawkins who was face down on the floor, hands covering his helmeted head.

"What was that?" McGee all but screamed as he tightened his shoulder straps.

"Don't know! I gotta check with the pilot. Be right back." Dawkins called as he carefully made his way to the door near the front of the craft to the cockpit.

The team was silent, save for their rapid breathing. That silence was broken by Tony, as expected.

"You guys feel that?"

"Feel wha-… yeah Tony. I feel something." McGee responded, his voice shaky.

"That feels like, static electricity, no?" Ziva whispered. Gibbs nodded, looking about in a confused fashion.

"Yeah, like my hair is standing on end. Any of you feel like, a buzzing in your brain? What the heck is that?" Tony questioned as he pulled out his phone.

"Perfect. Phone's dead." Tony shook his head.

"Mine too." McGee responded. "And my watch stopped. Boss, what's going on?"

Gibbs glanced around silently as the rest of the team looked at their phones and watches, concluding that for some reason, they all stopped working.

The team settled into their seats, their collective thoughts trying to reason with what was going on. Several minutes later, Dawkins returned, hands on his hips. He stared at the floor as he approached the team, shaking his head.

"What's up Dawk?" Tony asked.

"Doesn't make sense..." Dawkins responded, still shaking his head.

"What doesn't?" Gibbs asked. Dawkins looked at the team.

"Well, the flight was supposed to take right around six hours, but I guess we're already approaching Fairport. Doesn't make sense. We've only been in the air two hours tops. Doesn't make sense..."

The MCRT looked from Dawkins, to each other, brows furrowed and faces tense.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three on the way! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**I'm assuming that a bit of the info here may give away the crossover, but alas, it must happen. And don't just google it :)**

**PLEASE READ: This chapter will contain a little language and the crime scene. While I haven't rated this 'M', I suppose it could be. So, I apologize if anyone who doesn't like 'M' rated things, but it may get there during this chapter. You have been warned. (just don't want to surprise anyone)**

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><p>A woman, right around the age of fifty, walked agitatedly down the corridors of the high rise facility, with gruff mustached soldier. She waved her arms around in a frustrated motion, as the Colonel, the head of security for the facility, tried to calm her down.<p>

"Look Gen" (pronounced Jen), "This needs to happen. It's gonna cover us. We have three dead SEALs. The feds are going to want to know what happened here."

"I don't care, I don't want detectives here! I don't care if they're NCIS, they cannot come here."

"Air traffic notified me that they're minutes from landing."

Gen turned to the Colonel, glaring scathingly at him.

"Why the hell wasn't I notified? Ok, fine. Then we let them do their thing, and get out. Make sure they're not nosy. I want you, Colonel, to be beside them every step of the way. Keep them from digging, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I need to be at my penthouse this afternoon. The plan must continue if we want to rectify the... situation. Make sure the detectives take little time with the Sergeant. I need him."

"Yes ma'am."

Just as they concluded their conversation, the Colonel's radio blared.

***kkkcchchczzz Colonel, come in Colonel Valecchchzzzz***

"Go ahead."

***chchzzz The NCIS agents have landed sir. They've been instructed to await your arrival. They don't seem to want to wait though***

"I'll be there shortly. Out."

The Colonel nodded to Gen, and they split off in opposite directions down the birghtly illuminated hallways.

* * *

><p>The cargo door of the C-130 opened with a loud creak. As it lowered, the MCRT, including Ducky and Dawkins, stood in a silent row. As more and more of their new environment came into view, they let out a collective gasp.<p>

The sky was dark with nearly black clouds, but no precipitation fell. A dead wind blew, and even though there was an entire sprawling city in front of them, they all had the feeling that they were entering a ghost town, where nothing but the spirits of the dead resided. To McGee, it looked as if the sky itself was a deep and foreboding red, and the clouds wretched within it in decrepit lumps. It was like the sky itself was trying to rid itself of something, like a body that begins to reject a donated organ. First it becomes infected, then as the organ dies, the body attacks the foreign object. Yes, something within this place, was foreign and unwanted. Whatever that was, would be the downfall of squinted, drawing from his memory something oddly similar to this. _My dream… I've seen this before._

"Afternoon gentlemen!" A uniformed man with a mustache approached the cargo gate of the plane, flanked by at least 20 heavily armed soldiers in all black, with ballistic masks that covered their entire faces. On the tactical vests of the soldiers was a symbol with three squares, creating a geometric pyramid without a base. Gibbs frowned. He didn't like the look of this. He tried to see through the masks, but couldn't see the soldiers' eyes. Gibbs grit his teeth and began walking down the cargo gate.

"You can call me Colonel." The mustached soldier informed Gibbs, who in turn introduced his team. The NCIS agents followed the Colonel, the ranks of soldiers on either side, like pretorian flanks in Rome. As they walked McGee felt a hand on his sleeve, and looked to see Tony beckoning him to slow their pace. Tony pulled a pen from his pocket, purposefully dropping it. He and McGee stopped, while the soldiers and their team kept walking. McGee stooped down next to Tony.

"Probie, look at that." He pointed to the soldiers walking with Gibbs, Ducky, and Ziva. McGee frowned, realizing immediately what Tony was referring to.

"They're all the same height."

"Exactly McGee. These storm troopers, yes, Star Wars reference for you, McNerd, are all the same height. I mean look at that." Both Tony and McGee stood and hurried after the group, whispering to each other.

"They're exactly the same height, and build. All of them. What the hell?" DiNozzo shook his head and McGee looked from one soldier to the other.

"It's like, when they were hired, there was a specific weight and height requirement. That doesn't sound like fair hiring practices." McGee mused. Tony simply nodded as they were ushered by the Colonel into a bulletproof limousine.

"I'll be taking you all to our facility. See that high rise? That's it. I must remind you, lady and gentlemen, that this is a highly classified research center. So no snooping, got it?" The Colonel demanded.

"The facility?" Gibbs questioned as the Colonel shot him a look.

"Uh yeah. The facility." The Colonel repeated as he pointed in the direction of the city, at a large highrise building with the pyramid symbol on it. Gibbs couldnt help but wonder.

"I thought it was in construction. Hadn't been built yet." Gibbs asked as the group stood beside the limousine that would be their transportation to the crime scene. The Colonel scoffed.

"Who told you that? We've been in operation for right around a decade now. Hop in." The Colonel obviously wanted to end the conversation, so Gibbs conceded, nodding to the rest of the team to get into the back of the limo. The Colonel took the passenger seat, leaving the team alone.

Gibbs gut churned, as he turned to his team and whispered, quietly enough for the driver and the Colonel not to hear.

"You heard the man, no snooping. But that looks like a pretty big building. We may get lost." Gibbs tersely stated. His team nodded as the older man continued.

"I don't like this. Dawkins said the facility wasn't even built yet, but there it is. I don't know what's going on, but something is up. Just do what we normally do, wait for me to make a move, got it?"

The team nodded again, anxiety wrenching their stomachs as they approached the facility.

* * *

><p>"He's on the 35th level. Security interrogation room. I'll have security escort you up there. Then I'll take who ever is gonna process the crime scene to the location. It's just a couple blocks away."<p>

The Colonel snapped as two armed guards approached the group as they stood in the facility's main lobby. The lobby was enormous, brightly illuminated, and the massive letter's 'ATC' were inscribed above the front desk. McGee stared at it, a memory or a dream overwhelming him. _I know what that stands for… What is it? I know this..._

"Alright, McGee and Ziva, you talk to the suspect. DiNozzo, myself and Ducky will process the scene." Gibbs ordered, and the group separated. Gibbs didn't want to break up the group, but figured it would be the fastest way to get in and out of this Ziva could possibly 'get lost' and figure something out about the facility, or ATC.

"McGee, Ziver, just figure out where the suspect was at the time of the crime, and gather information on any alibis he's got. We'll be back soon."

* * *

><p>Ziva and McGee stood in the shiny metallic elevator behind the guards as it ascended. Ziva glanced at McGee, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and frowning.<p>

"Are you alright, McGee?" McGee shook his head slowly.

"I think so. Just got a pretty bad headache. And that static electricity feeling is still there."

At that comment, Ziva noticed the guards tense. She cocked her head at their reaction, and one of them turned, revealing to them only the tinted glass of his facemask.

"Headache huh?" He said, his voice sounding distorted. It was as if he was speaking through a computer, or a voice magnifying device, much like the device used to speak by those who are paralyzed. McGee nodded to the guard. He chuckled as he turned back to the door.

"You'll get used to that. Here's the floor. No snooping." He spoke as the doors opened and the guards led the agents down the hallway.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god." Tony breathed as he peeked into the doorway of the small room at the corner of the old warehouse. They had arrived at the crime scene, and there was legitimately 50 or so soldiers milling about, all dressed in the same black fatigues and facemasks.<p>

Within the door was the worst crime scene Tony, Gibbs, and even Ducky had seen. Usually, there was a decent amount of blood at a scene. But, even with a decent amount of blood, the surface area of the floor always had the majority over the surface the blood covered. But here, it was reversed.

Blood covered nearly every square inch of the small room within the warehouse, and the blood was even splattered on the walls and ceiling. No, splattered was an understatement. It was as if someone had legitimately tried to paint the floor, walls and roof with the blood of the deceased. In the center, were three charred skeletons. There was barely any tissue still attached to the skeletal structure of the victims. All of that, was everywhere.

"Good thing McGee is with the perp." Tony whispered as he choked back vomit. Gibbs simply stared, his camera held halfway in front of his eyes as he looked in disbelief. Ducky's hand covered his mouth, his cautious eyes sweeping the room.

"Alright Tony, let's get to work." Gibbs finally shook his head, and began snapping pictures as Ducky gathered his collection containers. As Ducky returned with his bags, he let out a little whistle.

"What do we have here?" He questioned as he crouched. "Anthony, can you take a picture of this? Jethro, this may be of some importance."

Gibbs and Tony walked over to Ducky, and crouched next to him. They were beside the outer wall of the warehouse, still on the street, and what they saw shocked them. At their feet, were bloody footsteps. But they weren't the typical bloody footprints of a normal crime scene. The feet that had made this were of a barefoot child. As soon as that fact registered within Gibbs, he immediately began looking around. _Child's bare footprints? There's a kid around here that needs help._

"Boss, this make sense to you?"

"Not alot does today, DiNozzo." Gibbs replied as he focused on what Tony was snapping photos of.

The first footprint was right up against the wall of the warehouse, but only the front half was present. The heel of the child's foot print was hidden within the wall, as if whoever it was had walked through it. Tony lowered the camera.

"What the hell?"

The footsteps led away from the warehouse about 10 yards, then simply stopped.

* * *

><p>"He's in here. And here's a radio directly to your boss. We heard your phones were out, so use this." The guard tossed McGee a military issue radio as the other opened the door. Ziva and McGee entered and the door shut behind them, locking. The two looked at each other suspiciously, but concluded that, with such high security, it was necessary. Still…<p>

"Hello, I'm Special Agent David and this is Special Agent McGee-" Ziva began, as she took a seat at the table across from the Sergeant, but McGee interrupted her.

"I know you!" McGee snapped, his eyes wild with Deja Vu. Ziva glared at McGee for cutting her off, but noticed him wagging his finger at the Sergeant.

The Sergeant still sat reclined in the interrogation room, but had a confused look, concluding to himself that he'd never seen McGee in his life. The soldier cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brow at McGee, who continued talking. The pieces began fitting together in McGee's mind, and he couldn't believe it.

"I know you. Your... your name's Michael." McGee's voice wavered. The Sergeant sat forward, squinting at McGee.

"How do you know that?" The soldier's voice hissed as he stood up.

"I...I just do. What... what part of the military do you work for?"

"Classified."

"Delta Force?" McGee stated, more than asked. Michael narrowed his eyes further.

"How the hell do you know that?"

At that, McGee threw his hands through his hair and began pacing and muttering under his breath.

"I can't believe this. This isn't happening. I should have seen it!"

"Seen what?" Both the Sergeant and Ziva snapped, giving each other confused looks.

"Michael, what year is it?" McGee demanded, stopping his pacing.

"What?"

"Answer me! Has the nuke gone off yet? What year is it?" Michael threw his hands in the air.

"What the hell are you talking about? Nuke? What nuke? And you're a goddamn detective! You should know what year it is!"

"Just answer me!" McGee, in uncharacteristic fashion, slammed his fists on the table in front of Michael, who crossed his arms across his chest.

"2025, Agent McGee. It's 2025."

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><p><strong>I'm going to have to assume some of you will get this. And sorry if this jumped around a little more than I usually do, but I've had alot of caffeine tonight :) <strong>

**And i know MCRT processes the crime scene first, THEN talks to perps, but I wanted to fit it into the chapter, and well, I just did it that way :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey All! **

**So, I didn't really want to carry on without using names for fear of giving away the crossover, so... Those of you that know the crossover, woohoo! But it will be clear (to those who are familiar) what the crossover is in this chapter. **

**Again, while this is not rated 'M', it does contain some 'M' things (that's really subjective though, isn't it?) So basically, treat this chapter as 'M'. If you are of younger ages or are disturbed by things within the 'M' category, please don't read. Otherwise, Enjoy!**

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><p>"2025!" Ziva all but yelled at Michael. He nonchalantly shrugged, nodding. To him, it was obviously a simple and logical answer. The year was 2025. There was no reason to think otherwise. Why would these detectives, NCIS agents at that, be so shocked at what year it was? McGee was pacing and mumbling, and Ziva simply stood with her hands on her head, disbelief emanating from her entire body.<p>

"Yeah, it's 2025. Why is that such a shock?"

"Because it's 2012! It is the year 2012! Not 2025. It cannot be 2025!" Ziva yelled back. Michael shook his head, chuckling slightly at the agents. One was yelling at him for simply stating the date, and the other seemed to be falling apart completely. McGee was currently crouched in the corner of the room, his hands on either side of his head as he whispered, "no no no, this can't be happening."

Finally, McGee stood up, and all but raced to the table.

"So that means you're a prototype?" Michael stared blankly at him.

"I'm a what?"

"Prototype. Artificially speaking. What was your childhood like?" Becket shook his head as McGee continued.

"It's because you don't remember, do you? You don't remember anything."

"I… I… Ok look Agent McGee, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm no prototype. Or whatever the hell you call it. I'm a soldier. An operative for the U.S. Army's Delta Force First Encounter-." But Michael stopped, realizing this was a breach of security to divulge such information.

"Assault Recon." McGee finished Michael's statement. The Sergeant slammed his fists on the desk.

"How do you know that! You're NCIS! No one knows about us!"

Ziva looked from McGee to Michael, confused at the exchange between them. McGee sighed. The words he was about to speak, he knew would fall on deaf or disbelieving ears. He knew it sounded crazy, but all the moments of Deja Vu and the dreams told him he had to say it. He took a deep breath, and chuckled slightly, understanding that his words, even to him, would sound rather insane.

"Be… Because I've played you." Michael raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as he stared across the table at McGee.

"You... What?" Michael said each word individually, emphasizing each.

"I've played you. Fairport. ATC. Armacham, right? I've played you. You're a video game."

"I'm a what?" Michael yelled across the table. As the Sergeant yelled, the lights in the room began to flicker again and a low reverberating sound began vibrating throughout the room. The table and chairs began to shake and Ziva and McGee both fell to their knees in pain. Only Michael stood, watching in fear and confusion at what was happening. Then the room went black and all three of them heard screaming from beyond the one-way mirror, which shattered, showering them in glass and a warm liquid. Then, the fluorescent light tubes exploded, raining down on all three of them like falling stars.

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><p>"McGee, Ziva, come in, this is Gibbs." The older agent held the radio to his mouth, then clicked the button again.<p>

"McGee! Ziva! Come in! This is Gibbs. Do you copy?"

Gibbs grumbled. Nothing about today felt right. It seemed that he couldn't trust even the shadows in this city. He caught not only himself, but DiNozzo and Ducky too, looking over their shoulders and down empty alleys, as if to find a glimpse of something. Something, that none of them knew.

The odd thing though, was that Gibbs saw no civilians. While they were in a beaten-down district of the city, and the crime scene had been cordoned off, he saw no one aside from the soldiers or his team. It just all didn't make sense. In previous cases, unless it was legitimately in the middle of nowhere, Gibbs would spy someone trying to sneak a peak at the scene from under the yellow caution tape. But not today.

Once Tony and Ducky had completed their assessment of the crime scene, Gibbs walked cooly to the Colonel, who was having a hushed conversation with an older woman in a suit. Gibbs caught the word 'penthouse' as he nodded to her, but as soon as she caught sight of him approaching, she turned and entered the back of a black sedan. Without a moment's hesitation, it sped off. Gibbs watched it go, his eyes glued to the back of it.

"Something I can help you with, Agent Gibbs?"

"Yeah Colonel, we're all done here. I want to get back to my team at the facility."

The Colonel nodded, then cocked his head as his radio began missing.

***kkcccchsss Colonel! We've got strong telekinetic signatures on the 35th level centering around the Sergeant's interrogation room. You bett- EAAAAAAARRRRRGHGHHH!…"**

Before the Colonel could respond, he heard the soldier scream, then hissing from the radio. Gibbs gave a whistle and both Ducky and DiNozzo appeared. The Colonel began barking out orders to his soldiers.

"Alright! We got contact at the facility. I want Terra Squad to remain here, provide security for the crime scene. Everyone else, back to the facility, now!"

A chorus of 'yes sirs' shot through the air, as the Colonel turned to Gibbs.

"You may want to stay-"

"We're going back to the facility. My two other agents are there. I need to get to them." Gibbs snapped, but the Colonel stepped in close, till they were literally nose to nose.

"Gibbs, I'm gonna be very clear with you. There are some things you may not... will not understand going on around here. Your best bet is to lay low, until we get it all figured out, copy?" The Colonel hissed.

"I'll 'lay low', when I have my other two agents. Until then, I'll be a thorn in your side, Colonel."

The Colonel glared at Gibbs, but spun around pulling open the door of the limo, then headed to a jeep. Gibbs nodded to Ducky and Tony, and they all entered the vehicle.

* * *

><p><em>Not again! Not again! Not again!<em> McGee repeated to himself. Last he remembered, was being inside the interrogation room within the ATC high rise building. Now, he was laying on his side in the middle of the same ruinous city landscape that he had dreamt about earlier that day. Except this time, he wasn't alone. He could see Michael stumbling about in a daze. _Where's Ziva! _His mind screamed.

McGee struggled to his feet and assumed the same staggering walk as Michael.

"Michael! Michael!" McGee called as he tried to steady himself, but the soldier either didn't hear him, or ignored him. Michael outstretched one arm, his hand reaching for something as he rocked back and forth. _Fine, if Michael isn't going to respond, and doesn't believe what I said, I'll try this._

"Becket!" McGee screamed. Sergeant Michael Becket, Delta Operative for First Encounter Assault Recon, Squad 'Dark Signal', turned to McGee finally. Just as the soldier faced the agent, McGee saw what looked like an 8 year old girl with long black hair and a red dress peer around the soldier at him. McGee gasped and stumbled over backwards, landing on his rear. _I know her! _

He simply pointed a shaking finger as the fires from the wreckage of the city roared. Becket stumbled over to McGee and reached down with a strong arm, pulling the agent to his feet.

"Wh-what is this place!" McGee stammered.

"I don't know. I've seen it before." Becket replied, keeping a hand on McGee's shoulder to steady him.

"I have too."

"I thought you don't know what this place is?"

"No, I don't know. Well, I think I know."

"You better start talking Agent McGee."

"I know I know!" McGee spoke hurriedly as he looked around, continuing.

"I've played this before. It's a game."

"I don't understand what the hell you're talking about! This is real life, McGee! This is reality, not some fucking game! Get that out of your head!"

The fires roared, but another sound echoed above the sound of destruction. It was a little girl's laugh. Both McGee and Becket swung their heads around in all directions, but the laugh seemed to come from all around them.

"This is- AAAAAHHH" McGee began, but the same splitting headache he felt in his dream consumed him. The agent fell to his knees, hands on either side of his head. Becket reached down, trying to comfort the man, but to no avail.

McGee, in excruciating pain, held his hand in front of him, watching as his flesh and skin began to fall from his bones and float away.

"AAAAAHHHHH" He screamed and Becket stumbled away from the disintegrating McGee, his eyes filled with terror.

Then, everything went black.

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><p><strong>Ok! For those who don't know, this is a crossover with the video game F.E.A.R. 2 (Project Origin). I love the game and I love NCIS so figured, HEY! Why not write a crossover? If any of you are into video games (and aren't squeamish) I highly advice playing it. <strong>

**Hope you're enjoying it! New chapter will probably come in an hour or so. No promises though...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Warning: Gore, language blah**

**Haven't done this yet, but I own nothing of what I draw from. Just the ideas.**

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><p>"He's coming around. McGee? You okay bud?" Tony looked worriedly at McGee, who just began struggling slightly in the medical cot in the ATC infirmary on the 3rd floor. Ziva, Gibbs, and Ducky came over.<p>

"Alright lad, it's alright." Ducky cooed as he took McGee's pulse.

"Still quite elevated, I'm afraid. Anthony, Ziva, can you look after McGee for a moment? Jethro, a word?" Ducky asked. Gibbs nodded, and he and the doctor retreated to a far corner of the shiny and sterile infirmary room. Ducky took a seat on one of the gurneys as Gibbs pulled the curtain around them.

"What's up Duck?"

"What is up, Jethro? Well, everything is quite amiss!" The doctor replied, rubbing his brow.

"You saw what was in the interrogation room! Well, in the observation room adjacent, rather."

Gibbs nodded, remembering it vividly.

**Xxx Flashback xxX**

Gibbs, Ducky, and Tony hurried off the elevator on the 35th floor of the highrise. Down the hall, at the interrogation room, were at least ten soldiers lined up at the interrogation room door. The same was true about the door just to the left of the interrogation room; the observation room. But, flowing from beneath the door of the observation room, was a copious flow of blood.

Just as they approached, the Colonel stepped in front of them.

"Let my men work, Gibbs. We'll secure your agents shortly."

Gibbs looked down as the Colonel fingered the sidearm on his hip. Gibbs nodded, realizing that he had no control of the situation. And it enraged him. But for the time being, he had to allow the security forces to do their job. Still, Gibbs pulled his pistol as the Colonel returned to his men. DiNozzo did the same, and waited.

**BOOM! BOOM!**

The soldiers at the front of the lines slammed handheld steel rams into the doors, knocking them open violently.

"Go! Go! Go!" The soldiers cried, streaming into the observation and interrogation rooms simultaneously. The MCRT breathed a small sigh of relief when the heard the soldiers clear the rooms. They rushed over as they saw the suspect walk calmly out of the interrogation room, rubbing his brow. Behind him was Ziva, and finally McGee, being dragged by one of the soldiers. The team gasped. They were all covered in blood.

"Colonel!" Gibbs screamed. "What the hell is going on here!"

The Colonel ignored Gibbs' question and yelled to his men.

"Get the agents to the infirmary! Gibbs, I advise you to follow. 3rd floor."

Gibbs grit his teeth, knowing that was all he could do. But Ducky, calmly walked forward, pulled out his pocket flashlight, and peered into the observation room.

"Dear God…" Ducky whispered, seeing a fate very similar to the SEALs just off base. Only skeletons remained of whoever was watching the interrogation.

"H-how did this happen? What could have done this?" Ducky asked, looking around, his eyes filled with worry and confusion. Gibbs simply shook his head as he watched McGee get placed on a stretcher.

Hurriedly he walked to Ziva.

"Ziva, what happened?" She looked at him, then down at her blood covered clothes.

"I-I don't know. I… just don't know." She repeated. Something had the usually calm and collected ex-mossad agent at a loss for words. Gibbs pulled her into a hug and gave her a squeeze. Immediately she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

"I-I just don't know." she spoke again, and Gibbs turned, guiding her and the team to follow McGee's stretcher to the infirmary.

**Xxx End Flashback xxX**

"It's… inexplicable!" Ducky shot.

"It's as if some… force beyond human capabilities did that. I have never seen such… atrocities. It simply cannot be logically explained, Jethro! Something… did that. Something, literally, ruptured the bodies of those men. And I'm certain that whatever it was, did that to our SEALs as well."

Gibbs took a seat next to Ducky on the gurney.

"I don't know Duck-."

"But that's just it, Jethro. We do not know! Something of…" Ducky carefully thought of what words to use, knowing that it betrayed even his logical mind.

"...Something of supernatural power, I must infer. No human can do this. As far as weaponry, I highly doubt could do such a thing, aside from a thermonuclear blast. But that is obviously not the case, as our Timothy and Ziva seem physically unharmed. It makes me wonder Jethro-."

"Boss!" Tony's voice interrupted, as the agent swept aside the curatin.

"McGee's talking. Probie's freaking out. He keeps asking for some guy named Becket."

Gibbs and Ducky stood and followed Tony to McGee. Ziva was currently kneeling next to his gurney, holding his hand with both of hers and whispering in Hebrew.

McGee was shaking, sweat soaking his entire body.

"Boss! Boss!" The green eyed agent called as soon as he saw Gibbs.

"Where's Becket? Did he leave?" Gibbs knelt down next to McGee.

"Yeah, he left."

"Where?" McGee's voice was wrought with fear.

"Colonel Vanek said he had a mission of top priority. You've-."

"How long ago?" Gibbs looked at the younger man, his brow furrowing.

"About an hour and a half, McGee. He left as soon as we got-."

"We need to get to the basement!" McGee screamed, swinging his legs off the bed.

"No you don't, McGee!" Gibbs commanded, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to stay in the infirmary-."

"Gibbs." Ziva interrupted the older agent. Gibbs, not understanding what had gotten into his agents, shot her a glaring look, but she continued.

"Gibbs, I… I don't know how to explain this, but we should do what McGee says. He knows more than any of us about the situation."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at her, then turned to McGee.

"What is going on McGee?" The older man asked. McGee took a deep breath as his hand tightened around Ziva's to keep him grounded in reality.

"This is a game, Boss. A video game. All of it. It's the year 2025 right now. We're in the Auburn district of Fairport City. This corporation, Armacham, is experimenting on people with psychological and telekinetic intuitions. Becket is one of them. The test subjects, not Armacham."

Gibbs thought back to his conversation with Dawkins in the C-130 armory, and how what McGee was saying struck oddly close to the airman's words. Gibbs rubbed his chin, nodding to McGee to continue.

"I know it sounds… really, really stupid Boss, but it's true. I knew the suspect just by seeing him. His name is Michael Becket, a part of Delta. First Encounter Assault Recon. They deal with inexplicable paranormal situations. I know it sound really dumb Boss, but it's true. Trust me, please Boss! We need to get to the basement. The Point-… There's going to be a nuke. We'll be safe in the basement, but we have no time! We need to go now!"

Gibbs released McGee's shoulder, and helped him stand, taking note of the massive amount of blood on his clothes, similar to Ziva's. Tony swept to McGee's other side and swung his arm around his waist to hold the younger man up, when a blinding light shot through the windows of the infirmary. They all turned in horror as the building began to shake.

"DOWN!" Gibbs screamed as he pushed his team to the ground. As he did, he grabbed McGee's gurney and flipped it onto its side between them and the windows.

The power of the nuclear bomb blew the windows into the infirmary, the shards slamming into the gurney. The deafening sound of the mushroom cloud forming shook the entire building, and the MCRT clutched onto each other in a pile on the infirmary floor.

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><p><strong>Ok, so if any of you know the story of F.E.A.R., I may have some errors in terms of timeline and canon. But if you are familiar with the game, just consider this AU. I hope you're enjoying it!<strong>


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